Two detectives, a problem and Molly
by SaidbhinLuch
Summary: Sherlock and Greg have a wee bit of a situation and who do they turn to in their hour of need? Molly of course. Who else? Major fluffiness. I mean it's just candy floss really.


Molly knocked lightly on the door, surprised when the door was wrenched open after her very first knock. Mrs. Hudson stood there looking completely bedraggled and worn out, hair and clothes askew and what looked to be a trace of vomit on the skirt of her dress. She was dragged into the house before she could open her mouth, the little landlady was babbling incomprehensibly and shoved her up the stairs.

Molly stumbled as she tried to turn attempting to ask her what the problem was, tripping over a stray cushion and landing on the floor with a loud oof.

'Molly!' She looked up straight at the seeing and was even more flabbergasted as a very ruffled Sherlock came into view. Breathing heavily, normally neatly arranged curls all askew, shirt collar sticking up at one side and traces of food stuck to his face.

Molly found herself being lifted to the floor with great ease, by the very disorientated man who looked at those he might hug her in relief.

_He didn't._ But it sure looked as though the thought had flittered though his head as she turned to look at him.

A plaintive wail echoed from what Molly assumed to be Sherlock's room and a shushing noise caught her attention.

'Not to worry George, Molly has arrived.' Sherlock called out, patting Molly on the shoulder as she peered down the hallway. _George_ moved as fast as he could down the small hallway, glaring at the man next to her as he did so. The running theme of today seemed to be complete and utter dishevelment as she took in the jacket hanging off his shoulders, wrinkled shirt and general unkemptness of the man as he passed a tiny bundle into her arms.

'_Greg.'_

'You should put that on a t-shirt… You didn't call me here to help you with Rose did you?' Both men looked decidedly sheepish, Greg staring at the floor and Sherlock watching the small baby in Molly's arms, who was still crying and flailing.

'Yes.' The pair spoke in unison, exchanging looks and Molly bounced Rose gently shushing her gently and glared at the pair.

'Well that is surprising… You both know I have little to no experience with kids, and Sherlock, you know I had a _lot_ of paperwork to catch up on. Please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me you didn't call me to help, simply as I'm the only woman you both knew?' She shifted the still bawling girl up onto her shoulder, moving gently back and forth to appease her. Sherlock opened his mouth, forehead crinkling slightly only a faint noise exiting and he stared contemplatively up at the ceiling.

'Well, you are…' Greg gestured vaguely at her. Molly looked down and back up before glaring at the grey hair Detective.

_'What exactly?'_ All she dare do was hiss at the man who was turning bright red as he moved away. Sherlock looked back at him then at her face set in complete bewilderment.

_'What are you exactly Molly?' _His eyes flickered back and forth trying to glean what the subtext in the situation was. It would be subtext to Sherlock she reasoned, shaking her head the annoyance practically vibrating off of her body.

_'A woman. You do realise that the fact that I have boobs does not give me magical powers when it comes to kids, _**_Greg?_**_'_ The man in question blushed even harder but smiled guiltily as his phone rang, answering it as fast as he could manage. Molly glared while he darted out of the flat as he could, leaving the other two standing there, one raging and the other total confused.

'I don't understand why Geoffrey would assume that simply because you are a woman would have any bearing on your skills with infants?'

Rosie quietened down suddenly eyes staring up at Sherlock snuffling into the warm yellow blanket. Molly tilted her head back to look at the little girl who was staring up at her godfather with her mother's eyes.

'Honestly, the belief that gender has any bearing on child rearing skills is laughable. The reason why I asked you here to assist us with little Rose is because you possess the characteristics that will ensure you will be an exemplary mother.' Sherlock stormed into the kitchen looking positively fractious. She looked down at the baby who was sucking on her fist now, still watching Sherlock.

'Will be?' She followed him into the kitchen, sitting down on the table and rocking Rose gently as she watched him closely. His eyes narrowed at her clearly doing his best to suppress the retort dancing on his tongue. She smiled cutely up at him, resting Rosie on her right leg, holding her gently but firmly under her arms and bounced her, getting the little girl to giggle loudly.

If you looked at Sherlock at the right angle, in the right light, Molly would swear to the world that he looked down at the child with adoring love shining in every inch of his face.

'Of course. You are the type to crave a family, an impulse shared by many. However unlike the vast majority, you will excel at it. You are kind, compassionate, intelligent, coupled with what appears to be an unending capacity for love. That is what will make you an outstanding mother. Unlike mine.' He spoke quietly, not facing her but examining one of his many experiments avoiding her amazed gaze.

'I'm pretty sure your mother was amazing with you and your brother. No bad mother could possibly raise two sons who are so confident in themselves that they will be their _unique_ selves regardless of what anyone else thinks. Your Dad must have been pretty great too.' He paused, considering her words placing on a pair of goggles and making to turn on the nearby Bunsen burner. She moved as quickly as she dared holding Rosie so that she was facing Sherlock, her legs dangling over her arms. He looked down at the burner, what looked to be a middle finger and his forceps and looked a little perplexed.

'Mary said not within 20 feet of the baby. And given that apparently she's a dangerous assassin type, I'd rather not irritate her.'

'Hm.' With that, Molly assumed that Sherlock was putting the experiment to rest for the time being as she wandered around the room pointing out some of the objects to Rose and humming lightly.

'Thank you Sherlock.'

'What for?'

'For saying what you said. It's bolstering to hear that, sometimes I wonder. I'm not a normal person, and the thought that it might not be good for a child does flitter through my mind.'

_Also the fact that you are sure of my impending motherhood helps, because I am losing hope in that possibility._ The words may have been unspoken, but the piercing look from her dear friend told her he had read everything. As per usual.

'Normal is dull. I imagine any child of yours would be far from that.'

'Maybe you should stick around to see it.' The words were out of her mouth before she could contain them oh she needed to develop a filter. Though the surprise look on his face and what could arguably be a blush on his face screamed at her to keep letting it happen.

'Indeed. I should.' He coughed, awkwardly, head bopping jerkingly emphasizing the mess that was his hair.

'Perhaps you should sort yourself out, me and Rose can handle ourselves just fine. No need to let John know that you were bested by a small baby.'

'Not Mary?'

'She'll know, she _always_ knows.' He sighed, ruffling his hair with one hand and strode towards his bedroom no doubt to tidy it up along with himself. As the door shut Molly smiled and leaned down to little Roses ear.

'Your Uncle Sherlock is a very silly man, you'll adore him.' She told the little girl imagining the mischief that the detective would no doubt try and succeed in getting the young Watson into in the future.


End file.
